As Thou Wilt

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As Thou Wilt

Sonnet — An Invocation to The Master #58

Now is season for strange phenomenon,
A richly replete and crowded night
Confining to all norms ever so human
And dawn that brings a day vacant.

At Thy light’s touch all disappears
Like mist at sunlight doth vanish,
A sombre train of dreams and ideals
Leave my being in unnatural hush.

Strange is this school of Thine,
The long years of study leave
Me empty of all gathered in time,
A hollowed bark, nothing to give.

To Thy purpose Thou alone art privy,
Do as Thou wilt with the soul of me.